Head Hanging Low

Yesterday, in spite of the dreary skies and threat of rain, four of my friends and I decided to drive about 30 minutes east and visit the Jefferson Township (or is it Jeffersonville?) Outlet Mall. It’s a decent enough place; not nearly as many stores as the Outlet Mall in Vacaville, CA, but still worthy of an occasional trip up there.

We went armed with cash and credit cards, determined to get a good start on Christmas shopping. Now, picture it, five women on a determined mission: shop until either the cash runs out or the credit cards are maxed out. Appreciate them, and get the hell out of their way.

I learned something about myself while we were there:

I am a shopping failure.

While my friends found gifts for several people and left with several bags each, I came home with a solitary, very small bag. I bought a pair of gloves.

That was it. A pair of gloves.
For myself.

Now, granted, I have seen these gloves for twice as much in the local mall, and I almost bought them a couple of times (because, after all, I need gloves for winter. We’ll ignore the fact that I have a perfectly good pair in my jacket already. These are fleece lined soft leather. At 50% off, I was going home with them.)

But … I am not a good shopper. I don’t browse well, evidently. I can’t walk into a store and spend 20 minutes picking through sweaters and shoes unless I’m looking for something specific. I don’t see a point going into a store from which I need nothing.

I had a load of fun being out there with friends, but the truth is apparent.

I am failure.

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